Chapter 12
Bee
After a night filled with one embarrassing moment after another—getting caught cutting my hair, having to be tossed around like a tantrumming toddler, accidentally flashing my whole boob—it made very little sense to me why sharing my plans to ski down The Slope was the thing that made me go hot with shame. I had done my Bee thing and got defensive because I’d been on edge, waiting to be mocked. But why? Owen had been nothing but gentle and understanding, but that scared part of me could not let go of the feeling that it wasn’t real. It was all a setup to let me down.
Don’t get attached. Don’t hold on to hope.
Yet, here and now, with our gazes locked and our mouths hovering a few inches apart, those worries were shoved way to the back of my lizard brain. There were more important matters.
As I wasn’t one to normally overthink anything, I lived purely in the moment because that’s all there was, but going through a hypothetical checklist of interest, Owen checked boxes left and right.
Did he want to spend time with me? Yup. Okay, so maybe he didn’t have a whole lot of choice in that arena, but he was sitting under the wrapper with me when there was a whole other bench, and it wasn’t that cold.
Did he keep finding excuses to touch me? Indeedy. The fact that half our bodies were smooshed together cemented that point.
He asked me questions and listened when I responded. Check-a-roonie.
What magic was this tingling through my body, to be seen ?
And the way he looked at me right now, with those gooey eyes that roamed over my features. It really seemed like the man was going to kiss me.
Was that too soon? Was that what I wanted? Was this real or just a reaction to the first bit of attention I’ve received?
A heightened awareness passed through my entire body of the growing heaviness of my breasts and rapid heartbeat. His eyes were molten when he’d seen me in my bikini. That had to mean something. His warm, spicy-clean scent encompassed me and clouded my senses like stepping into a hot spring. His strong body occupied my entire focus, and I wanted the freedom to touch his body, so unfamiliar and different from my own. I wanted him to touch me, too, and study his face as he discovered the bits he liked the best.
What would happen if we kissed? Would it change things? What about my plans? My needs? Would he return me to Benny the second this tram got moving?
Because when I shared with him, he hadn’t mocked me. He was surprisingly profound and paid attention to me.
Maybe I didn’t always live in the moment because suddenly, I envisioned a future where we got off this mountain, and Owen never wanted to see me again. A future where I was no longer the subject of his questions and long glances, and I found I didn’t like to think about that.
How long had we been sitting here in silence, staring at each other’s mouths?
Easily five years.
I checked my phone and gasped when I registered the time.
“It’s almost midnight,” I said. He blinked and sat back so his face no longer hovered a breath away. I regretted speaking immediately—a common affliction. “We should celebrate,” I added.
After a second, he swallowed with a rough nod.
“I’ll break out the water bottles,” I said and reached under the seat to grab the bag.
I dug through and handed him a bottle.
“I’ll grab the Pop-Tarts too,” I said. “You’ve earned it.”
“So generous,” he said with a soft, almost grin.
If you put together all those half smiles and smirks, that easily equated to a handful of full smiles. Not that I was counting, but he’d smiled more tonight than I’d seen around town in years. It made me feel like I had a sort of magic.
Soon, we were situated with our treats—I guess he was worthy of sharing with after all.
“Now that I told you my New Year, New Bee resolution. What about you?” I asked him.
He watched me curiously as I nibbled the corner of the pseudo-pastry.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Building a kayak.”
“Sugary foods make you snarky.”
“It’s the lack of them more accurately.”
“You only eat the edges first?” he asked.
“There is no other way to eat them. Get the healthy part out of the way,” I explained, even though it’s obvious. How else would they even be eaten?
“Healthy part?”
“The not pure sugary goodness. Normally, if they were toasted, I’d eat the edges, then slide the two halves apart and save the frosting side for last.” I’d probably also burn the shit out of my mouth in my impatience, but he didn’t need to know that part. The more I spoke, the more he fought a smile. “Is that not how everybody eats them?” I flicked a look to the side.
He took a bite, and half the treat was gone.
“Monster.” I shuddered.
Alluring muscles in his jaw moved and flexed as he chewed. After he finally swallowed, he started speaking. “To answer your question, no resolutions.”
“Tell me you aren’t one of those people too cool for school and think they’re a joke.”
I cringed as he ate the rest in one bite . I wouldn’t be sharing these again.
“I don’t think they’re a joke. I just didn’t really think about it,” he said.
“What better time than now!” I clapped three quick bursts. “Think of one.” I glanced at my phone. “Now. You have two whole minutes until midnight. No pressure.” I sucked on the frosted bit in my mouth. As his gaze moved to my lips again, I came up with about five solid suggestions for his resolutions, all of which involved his tongue or mouth region.
“I guess … I’d like to get some more decorations for my friend Ivy’s room. Make it more comfortable.”
The more he shared, the more questions I had. Was Ivy the woman he visited at Golden Sunsets? The fact that that was the first idea that popped into his head made my heart tighten in a curious way. I was too close to developing a crush.
“That’s sweet, but more like a to-do list than a resolution. Any big changes? Any major life upheavals? Any swimwear you’re dying to wear in public?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll think about it. I think my two minutes are up.”
I tossed my hand out with a sigh of exacerbation. “Now, time is flying.”
I held my phone between us so we could see the screen.
It didn’t take long until we neared the final, final countdown (insert eighties guitar rift here).
“Three …” I said.
“Two …” He joined in, our bodies leaning closer.
A kiss at midnight hadn’t been on my list, but I’d been adapting so well, so far, I might as well?—
“One …” he whispered, head lowering.
My racing heart had to be audible. Every part of me was on edge and sensitive and an exposed nerve.
“Happy New Year,” we said in whispered unison.
In my periphery, my phone screen exploded in colorful fireworks before rolling over to the new year.
Owen bent and brushed his lips against my cheek. Before I even knew what was happening, he straightened away.
My mouth, which had been parted slightly, closed as a disappointment ached through me.
I couldn’t read men at all, it turned out.
We toasted our bottles and grabbed a second brown sugar Pop-Tart. At least I’d always have carbs.
“Living our best life,” I said, hating that my voice sounded breathy and shaky with loss.
“I really am,” he said as if he was just as surprised as I was.
His gaze moved over my face. His soft smile locked in place, and there was a hazy expression I couldn’t translate.
“Good,” I said with a forced pep.
New year, same me, same unkissed lips.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Totally. I’m having fun.” I couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Okay. Good. Me too,” he said.
When I flicked a look at him, his brows were pinched with thoughtfulness. Maybe he was trying to work out just how much longer we’d be stuck together.
“And I didn’t even finish telling you about all the cats,” I said.
He chuckled, and I really liked how it felt. Even if I wasn’t joking.
I understood now that he wasn’t laughing at me.
“You’re pretty remarkable, Bee,” he said.
My head turned back in his direction, treat forgotten. He watched me carefully.
“Me?” I asked. That was literally the first time I’d ever heard that. I was as markable as a dry-erase marker, let alone remarkable …
An internal feminine alarm blared back to life. Had I shut down the offices too soon? Was court back in session? Because Owen held a tension in his shoulders and swallowed audibly. He leaned closer yet again.
“Maybe this will be the year where everything changes,” he said, holding my gaze.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I really hope so.”
My heart thumped hard in my chest. The tingling in my body was back, up and down my front and back all the way to the tips of my fingers. Inside, I was running around in a circle, arms flailing in the air. Outside, I kept as still as possible, afraid I’d do something to mess this up. How did I show I was interested in return?
His head lowered toward mine. My chin lifted in response.
Oh, so it was instinctual. My body knew what to do. I just had to listen.
Owen’s large, calloused, and surprisingly warm hand cupped my face delicately. He drew me in with his own sort of magic, and I went willingly. His thumb swept across the apple of my cheek, sending a full-body thrill through me. His nose glided alongside mine, his mouth meeting mine so gently, in a barely there whisper-soft pressing of his lips.
This was it. Time for a kiss to measure all future kisses against.
His was so warm and soft, and I immediately needed more. I moaned and pushed harder into him, eager and impatient. He smiled against my lips; his other hand rumbled slightly as it grasped the back of my neck.
He held me like I was precious.
The awareness of our bodies meeting was explosive. It was a tangible source of power thrumming between us. Energy sparked off me and between us.
Metaphorically.
Which was ironic because that was exactly when the power went out.
Quite literally.